[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-the-cursed-blade-s-walk":3,"chapter-the-cursed-blade-s-walk-the-cursed-blade-s-walk-chapter-627":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"chinese","The Cursed Blade's Walk",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},2262932,4415,"Chapter 627: Entering the Dragon","the-cursed-blade-s-walk-chapter-627",627,"\u003Cp>Luoyang, the former capital of the Zhou dynasty, the ruins of Han and Wei.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It lies at the center of the world, on the sunny bank of the Luo River. During the Western Zhou, bronze inscriptions already referred to the Luoyang plain as “Zhongguo.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Amid a thousand years of war smoke, countless emperors and generals have buried their bones on Mangshan.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But like Chang’an, since the turmoil at the end of the Tang, Luoyang has gradually declined, repeatedly ravaged by war, no longer the glorious divine capital it once was.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Since the end of last year, the weather abruptly changed, turning bitterly cold; though the Spring Equinox has passed, the wind still bites, and snow lingers.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As night fell, the ancient city’s ten thousand lamps flickered out one by one.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In the distance, the silhouette of Mangshan lay like a coiled dragon.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Near the North Market, Guiyi Alley.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The blue stone pavement glowed faintly; night mist crept along the ground.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At the corner, an old woman burned paper in the shadows; ash from spirit money spiraled in the wind, faint sobs drifting through the air.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“This is Luoyang today…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The night watchman Lao Zhao stopped, sighing to his apprentice.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He turned his head, clenching his gong and wooden clapper, limping forward, yet still murmuring: “Back in the day, we in Luoyang could still scrape up a hot meal. But since the court lifted the sea ban, look—anyone with connections has rushed to the coast to chase gold.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“The eastern market’s as ghostly as a spirit fair. The riffraff on the streets, starving for profit, their eyes green with hunger—they’ll do any vile thing.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then, lowering his voice mysteriously: “Did you see Old Liu’s wife just now? Her son’s a good-for-nothing, but he’s filial! The other night he went up Mangshan to ‘dig for gold’—guess what happened?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“He didn’t even come back with a whole corpse!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“What kind of place is Mangshan? It holds more emperors than living people! Two years ago, Old Wang Wu dug up a Northern Wei pottery jar—and his eyeballs got gouged out by some cursed thing…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His apprentice was tall, but starved, thin as a bamboo pole.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He didn’t hear a word Lao Zhao muttered; instead, he kept glancing around, each time spotting a dark alley, his eyes filled with terror.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Look at your nerve!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lao Zhao sneered, “If your dad hadn’t brought me two paper-wrapped honey cakes and begged on his knees, I wouldn’t have taken you out in the first place!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“This job ain’t easy. Old Zhang from Dongguan’s son got so scared he wet his pants in three months—you’re worse than him.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Mm.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His apprentice was a quiet one; hearing Lao Zhao’s scolding, he bowed his head, saying nothing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lao Zhao rolled his eyes, then lifted the clapper and struck it rhythmically, calling out: “Midnight has come—watch your fires!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That startled his apprentice into a shiver.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Soon, they passed down the alley; just around the corner, dim light appeared ahead, accompanied by the thudding sound of wood being carved.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was a coffin shop.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They were working through the night—not only were men inside carving coffins, but the entrance was piled high with paper figures; two men’s fingers danced with bamboo strips, quickly shaping figures.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The night wind blew, making the white paper figures rustle.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Seeing them, the apprentice’s scalp prickled; his legs turned leaden, frozen in place.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Spat! Spat! Spat!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lao Zhao spat three times on the ground, glanced at his apprentice, too tired to scold him, stepped forward, and asked: “What’s going on? Who’s in such a rush to have work done at this hour?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“A big client.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The paper-figure apprentice looked up, grinning: “Came last night to order—urgent. Comes to collect tomorrow night.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Came at midnight?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lao Zhao frowned. “Tell your master to be careful—this smells fishy. He still owes me two drinks.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The other paper-figure apprentice scoffed: “What’s to fear? These days, as long as you pay, it’s fine if it’s man or ghost.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Spat! Spat! Spat!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lao Zhao spat again, cursing: “Child’s babble—don’t know the meaning of death.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Saying that, he led his apprentice onward.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After turning the corner, the light behind vanished; he shook his head, murmuring: “These days, incense at the City God Temple has withered, yet paper-shops burn bright every night. The living worship gods less than they beg ghosts…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>There’s a taboo on night walks: never speak of ghosts.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lao Zhao was a night owl—slept and drank by day, patrolled by night. His apprentice grew more terrified with every word, pleading: “Master, stop talking—let’s hurry and finish our rounds.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Hurry? We’ve got a long way to go…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lao Zhao teased, but as he turned his head, his body stiffened, his face turned deathly pale.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Master, don’t scare me.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His apprentice’s neck hairs stood on end; he shook his head frantically.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Behind them, the street was now thick with fog; the bright moonlight made it dreamlike, surreal.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Within the mist, several dark shapes emerged, walking with a floating, unnatural gait—not human at all.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Cover up!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lao Zhao barked, pulling two tattered cloths from his backpack—one he draped over himself, the other he threw to his apprentice.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Though slow-witted, the apprentice wasn’t foolish.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In the market, it was said that night watchmen, through years of walking the dark, accumulated certain protections—things to ward off disaster.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So the apprentice didn’t hesitate—he wrapped the rag tightly over himself, covering nose and mouth completely.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Instantly, a foul stench slammed into his nostrils.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Like falling into a cesspool.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He held back his gag reflex, dared not speak, wrapped himself fully, even crouched to cover his feet.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Only his eyes remained, darting wildly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Soon, the fog rolled over the entire street.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He finally saw what it was.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Paper figures—swaying, stepping with crossed legs, joints creaking with bamboo friction.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Closer look: they were the very figures from the paper shop moments ago.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But now, their white bodies were covered in dense, crimson script—like blood seeping from within.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>What comforted him: the stinking rag on his body seemed to hold real power—the paper figures passed them by, utterly ignoring them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He knew some characters; he couldn’t help glancing at the nearest paper figure, reading: “Soul, return! Carved in Qin seal script, pledged with Chu shaman’s sacrifice. East lies the Sun Tree, west the Candle Shadow, south bury three sacrificial beasts, north subdue human sacrifice…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Rustle-rustle~\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Before he could decipher further, a flood of paper figures drifted past.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Amid these horrors stood a vermilion-lacquered coffin, gilded with dragons and phoenixes—far beyond any common family’s use.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Soon, the paper figures vanished into darkness.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The thick fog dissolved completely.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet neither dared move. Long after, Lao Zhao suddenly rose, yanking the rag off his body.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The apprentice followed, gasping fresh air, trembling: “Master, what was that?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“How should I know!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lao Zhao glared, but his tone softened: “You’re not bad, kid. Didn’t panic and run off and drag me down.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Praised, the apprentice grew bolder, staring at the stinking rag in his hand: “Master, what’s this treasure?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Hunyuan Golden Robe!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Want it? It’s yours—for twenty copper coins.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lao Zhao brushed it off, then stared at the corner, his gaze heavy: “Something’s wrong. Follow me.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Saying that, he turned back with his apprentice.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Before the paper-figure shop, disaster had struck.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The shop was in ruins—the paper figures outside were gone, lights extinguished; both apprentices lay sprawled on the floor.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Faces twisted in terror, bodies coated in frost.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Around the shop, black mold oozed from the brick crevices.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Clang! Clang! Clang!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Frantic gong beats echoed through the ancient city’s night sky…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>…………\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yi River is a tributary of the Luo River, south of the Yellow River. According to the Luan Chuan County Annals, Yi River is also called Yi Water—the ancient Luanshui.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Though the weather was cold, the ice on Yi River had melted; yellow waters surged, slapping against the boat’s hull.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Splash—splash—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The wooden boat glided through the choppy current.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At the bow, Li Yan stood with arms crossed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The river wind stirred his dark hair, and his black fur cloak rippled slightly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After a long journey, dusty and weary, they had finally reached Luoyang.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The journey had not been peaceful.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They left Chengdu Prefecture, followed the Min River into the Yangtze, then traveled up the Han River through Xiangyang into the Tang-Bai River, and from Nanyang, moved by both water and land.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Three thousand li by water, five hundred li by land.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It took over ten days.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even with haste, mishaps occurred.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Near Leshan’s Li Dui, their boat ran aground—but thanks to his reputation in Sichuan’s underworld, the local rivermen’s leader came personally to help…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When they reached Hankou, they encountered a conflict between the Cao Gang and the Pai Jiao, blocking the waterway; the official in charge was a fool who dared demand “guotang silver,” leading to a fight that drew the Cao Gang’s elder to come and apologize.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Of course, they also presented them with a “Cao Army Command Flag,” and with the Tu Shi prowling the waters, all bandits and river pirates in Huguang scattered at the mere sight.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Upon reaching the Tangbai River, the water had grown shallow due to reservoir construction, so they split up and switched to several “zemeng boats” to continue onward.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Beside him, a burly man sat cross-legged on the deck, slowly eating snacks, his eyes half-closed in delight.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Among them all, Wu Ba was the most carefree.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He ate wherever he went, and his taste had grown fussy.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The snacks wrapped in oiled paper must have been exceptional to satisfy him so thoroughly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Luoyang, capital of thirteen dynasties, blended imperial court cuisine, Daoist offerings, and urban street flavors—its pastries carried both the refined elegance of a thousand-year legacy and the heavy weight of the Heluo folk culture.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>These were “Tang Guozi” purchased during an evening stop at Bowang Post, when they moored for a meal at a decent pastry shop.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Originally a court delicacy, refined by incorporating Hu culinary techniques, they were once served only to nobles and officials; now, with the divine capital’s decline, they had long spread among the common people.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>There was “Imperial Consort Hong,” filled with Luoning red beans, wrapped in glutinous rice dough dyed crimson like rouge, shaped like a peony—legend says Yang Yuhuan loved them most.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>There was “Mandala Cake,” a offering for the Buddha’s birthday at Bai Ma Temple, shaped into an eight-petaled lotus with sesame and honey, symbolizing the “Eightfold Path.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>There was also Peony Flower Dish, Peony Pastry, Peony Honey Cake—alongside the Eight Luoyang Delicacies: “Kai Kou Xiao,” “Jin Ma Zao,” “Jiang Mi Tiao,” and more.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Such a large bundle was naturally expensive.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Someone once said, “Luoyang noble families make pastries—one box costs ten gold pieces”—imagine the price.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>From these delicacies alone, one could glimpse the grandeur of that era.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Of course, Wu Ba didn’t care—he popped one into his mouth after another.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Aren’t you sick of how sweet they are?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Li Yan glanced over, silent, and shook his head.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Many of these were sweet treats; he could only eat more when paired with good tea.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Saying this, he squinted slightly, then turned his head.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>On the rear “zemeng boat,” the Tian Tong Jiao’s Di Longzi leapt from the deck, soaring eight meters before slamming his foot hard against the water.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With a thunderous crash, water sprayed in all directions.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He rose again, landing steadily on their boat.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Though his hands were still injured, his skill remained—this move was beyond the reach of any ordinary dark-force expert.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He had already entered Hua Jing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But in Li Yan’s eyes, every motion was riddled with flaws.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was only half a step away from Dan Jing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Of course, Li Yan would never show off; he merely smiled and nodded. “Senior, your skill is truly impressive!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You flatter me.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Di Longzi shook his head, gazing ahead, and said gravely: “Li Shaoxia, ahead lies the Yi River Ferry. There’s a Longmen Post there—we can change horses and head straight for Luoyang.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“As you wish, Senior.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Li Yan nodded slightly, his expression calm.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was no greenhorn fresh to the Jianghu; after several casual chats along the way, he was certain the old man had ulterior motives.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He had even vaguely guessed the man’s plan.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was nothing more than using him to eliminate a few rivals.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When they were on Mount Qingcheng, the old man had six or seven disciples; now he had only four—the other three were likely ahead, setting traps.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Though he understood, Li Yan didn’t care.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With different levels of cultivation and status, methods naturally differed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In the past, they had no reputation and insufficient strength, facing off against demonic titans and reincarnated demons, each harder than the last.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So they had to play both sides, avoid direct conflict, and recruit allies.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Now, all they needed was to remain unchanged and respond to all changes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In the end, it would force the mastermind behind the scenes to reveal himself.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Not long after, a ferry appeared ahead—though not as bustling as Hankou Ferry or Chaotianmen, it was still sizable.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The boats here differed from those in the south.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Mainly Cao Yun ships—shallow-bottomed “grain boats” of the Yellow River, commonly called “Huanghe Bianzi,” with Zhe wood keels and tightly riveted willow nails.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Twin-masted vessels, used for both passengers and cargo, known as “Huanghe Yaozi.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And paired-hull boats, two vessels lashed side-by-side with iron chains, planked over, under the jurisdiction of the Yuzhou Regional Military Commissioner; boatmen needed a “Cao Fu.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Others included the Hunjiang Long and Kunxiang boats.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They also spotted a military Yellow River Tower Ship—double-decked, with battlements and arrow slits on the upper deck, oarsmen hidden below, and cannons mounted at the bow.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After a flurry of activity boarding the ferry, the group followed Di Longzi away from the shore immediately.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After traveling a short distance along the official road, a sizable post station appeared before them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Di Longzi gave a signal, and one of his disciples dashed into the station.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They had long operated in Yuzhou and knew the area well—even if the postmaster was ignorant, they could still requisition horses using their Dao Die.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But the disciple had barely entered before he rushed out, face filled with helplessness: “Master, there are no horses.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Interesting.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Di Longzi laughed bitterly. “No horses at the post station? Does every official here want to lose his head?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Imperial regulations required post stations to always keep fast horses ready to relay urgent intelligence; if the postmaster rented them all to merchants, he was trading his life for money.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The disciple hurried to explain: “Longmen Post originally had many, but this morning a detachment of Battalion Commanders arrived, urgently heading for Luoyang, and took all the horses!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Oh?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Li Yan recalled the military ship he’d seen by the shore and said gravely: “Has something happened in Luoyang?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The disciple shook his head. “I don’t know.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You don’t know anything—what kind of scouting is this?!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Di Longzi’s face darkened at this.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>These disciples were good at flattery, but they were dull-witted—and often made him lose face before fellow Daoists.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The disciple quickly added: “Master, don’t be angry—I’ve already asked. We can still get horses. According to the postmaster, a Long elder of the Heluo Horse Gang is resting at a guesthouse just ahead.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“The Horse Gang still has a few horses left.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Oh, and that guesthouse is called Longmen Guesthouse…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>(End of Chapter)\u003C\u002Fp>",2569,"2026-06-19T18:28:35.913Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","f869e934a3b283b651e8da698a54b9bc301187aeb4c52b0b3bae7a31b805d758","the-cursed-blade-s-walk-chapter-628","the-cursed-blade-s-walk-chapter-626",801,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fthe-cursed-blade-s-walk-cover.jpg"]